We’ve had a hard couple of days. I’ve been difficult. I don’t think I’ve ever realized before now how much my difficulties impact you. Tonight I heard your voice break for the first time. Saw my constant particularities and unkindness and nit-picking hurt you, made you feel like not enough, made you feel like you’d done wrong.
‘I messed up again,’ you whispered. ‘I don’t know what to do.’
I’m not sure I’ve ever felt worse. I hurt the person I love the most. I gave you a double-standard, and I was a monster about it. How many times have I broken you down to get to this point? Why have you let me? Please, I beg you, don’t ever let me push you this far again.
You are everything to me. It’s so hard to see, under my need for everything to be just so, my demands, my quick emotions and harsh admonitions. But you matter more than anything else. The margin on that is laughable. Nothing else will ever come close.
I can be a very ugly human sometimes. I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you, but slowly, truly, I am becoming better with you. You are so good, kind, gentle, perfect. You make me want and need to be better.
Tonight I read you the entry that precedes this one. I didn’t know how else to make clear how much I love you. I love you that much at my most broken, mean, selfish. You needed to know.
I started this journal for you, but I’m starting to see how much I need it too.